Touched
by defythystars
Summary: 1x2. Late-night lonely musings. A cross. Heero. A get-together. A broken wrist and mild torture. If love can conquer all that .. the petals will not fall.


- - » Touched.   
  
__ a gundam wing incident.   
  
*//rei.   
  
____xx   
  
"It's hard to … believe it's over."   
  
Duo Maxwell sat in front of the window. A sliver of moonlight shone through the dark curtains onto the floor behind the violet-eyed boy. From the colony, as he stared towards it, the moon was large—too large, almost frightening. He remembered sitting on his Gundam, on Earth, years ago, staring at the moon and wondering … of Heero.   
  
He remembered thinking … 'I wonder if that guy even looks at the moon.'   
  
Laying the side of his head on his arm, he turned his eyes away from the silver specter. With his fingers, he shut away the little bit of light with the dark curtain. The moon, now, was always too bright for him. It was hard for Duo to sleep, with or without the light. There were nightmares all the time. They were nightmares of his first encounters with Heero Yuy and of his last.   
  
Although it had only been a few weeks, it felt like it had been years since he had seen his comrades. It made him feel old—quite a lot older than he was right now, which was seventeen. Maybe that was what wars did to people. Wars made people crazy. Wars made people … not what they seem.   
  
With that thought, Duo had turned his head and buried his face in his arms. All he heard around him was his own soft breathing and his own heart thumping, thudding in his chest.   
  
He was never what he seemed. No one knew him. How could they know him if he never showed his real self before? It didn't matter anymore, though. There was no one else to show. Who else did he know? Why did everyone go?   
  
The roses that were placed carefully in a vase on the table … the single table throughout the darkened room … were dying.   
  
Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.   
  
His heart pulsed faster as his eyes, so melancholic, so out of character, stared at the art on the table. A petal fell silently. "I'll never find someone quite like you … again." He lifted his head slowly, staring at the red roses on the table. His hand unconsciously went to his chest, lying on his heart. "I didn't know you had one of these. I didn't … know I had one of these."   
  
Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.   
  
His violet eyes softened. "Well, what did I expect you to do, buddy?" His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. He talked to no one because no one was there to listen—except for those roses, dying. "Did I expect you to stay with me?"   
  
Duo looked down, harshly, quickly, to the floor. "Yes." Of course, he was used to being alone. Being a pilot for so many years—you get used to it. But once he met him, he didn't want to leave him. He wanted to be with him, to help him, to save him.   
  
"And I haven't done any of that. Some friend, I am." Is that what Duo saw him as? A friend? Heero Yuy never thought of him like that. He thought of Duo as maybe a comrade, fighting for the same thing. They both fought for freedom—for peace.   
  
But now that it was all over—peace achieved—there wasn't much room for anything else, was there? There wasn't enough room for him to have anything, anyone. It made him sick sometimes. He would get the courage to ask why—why Heero had left—but then, when his fingers touched the buttons on the phone, he would ask himself why he wanted the company of another so badly. Why did he crave that?   
  
Heero didn't want it. So why did Duo want it so badly?   
  
"I'll never find someone quite…" he paused, staring at the roses. Their thorns were curled, dull, and the beautiful petals were shriveled and dying. Their scarlet color was faint in the dark room—and Duo doubted there was color to the petals anyway. They were dying. Why would they be colored?   
  
Duo stood, his hand falling from his chest to grab onto the end of his braid gently. He went to the table and kneeled on the floor. He rested his elbow on the table and with his hand, he brought the tail of his braid to his cheek. He held it there for a few moments before he reached out to the roses gingerly.   
  
His hand trembled.   
  
"I'll never find someone quite," his breath stopped. As he touched the rose, the very last petal … fell. "As touched … as you."   
  
____xx   
  
If the phone hadn't been ringing so loudly for such a long time, Duo would not have woken up the next morning for quite a long time. Who would call him anyway? Opening one of his eyes, he stared around the room, vexed.   
  
It was probably the landlord calling because he was short a couple _hundred_ dollars on his bill.   
  
Deciding not to answer it, he closed his eye. He was still in the same position as he was for the last few hours. He leaned against the table, his arms supporting him on it, with half his face buried in his sleeves.   
  
"Hey!" The voice on the answering machine was his. "You've reached Duo Maxwell. I'm probably here right now, but I don't want to answer the phone. Leave a damn message and I'll get back to you whenever." At first, his voice was cheerful, but near the end, it seemed he was very irritated. It showed, now, his acting was getting lazy.   
  
Duo, with his face in his sleeves, winced at his own words on the answering machine.   
  
"Duo…"   
  
Gasping, Duo raised his head from the table and stared at the phone. A red light was blinking on it, indicating the message machine. But that voice sounded like…   
  
"Duo? I think you're there. Well, this is Quatre speaking."   
  
In a split second, Duo jumped from the floor and stumbled towards the phone. He almost fell, but he grabbed it as he smacked into the wall. Pressing it to his ear, he answered, "Quatre? Quatre, is that you?" His voice was almost desperate.   
  
"Hey, Duo!" Quatre sounded so cheerful.   
  
"Hey, buddy!" Back to a casual voice, he began, "I haven't seen you in such a long time, Quatre. How are things?"   
  
"Things are great. How are things for you?"   
  
There was a hesitation in his voice as he slid down the wall, clutching the phone to his ear. "Oh, same old."   
  
"Same? How can you say that?"   
  
"It's been … dull." He added in a chuckle after that. It was forceful.   
  
"Ah, I see. Well, the reason why I called was—I wanted to get us all together. Maybe just for a little while. Now that the war is over, maybe we can have a break just for a little bit. What do you say?"   
  
"S-sure! Why would I say no, pal?" He paused. "Who else is coming?"   
  
"I was hoping all the pilots. The only person I'm not sure about is Heero, because he hasn't answered my calls. You know Heero…"   
  
"Heh, yeah…" Duo trailed off involuntary, staring at the glass vase on the table. The room was still dark, but the faintness of the morning light was bleeding through the curtains.   
  
"I look forward to see you at my place Saturday, then!" Quatre laughed, breaking Duo's thoughts.   
  
"Sure thing, Quatre. I'll be there."   
  
"Good bye, Duo."   
  
"Later, buddy."   
  
Beep. Beep. Beep.   
  
The dial tone rang in his ear. That was quick. That was really quick. Easy? Hardly. Duo stumbled on his words, and he knew it. How was it Quatre could act that way? He acted so happy—so casual—like he and Duo had talked all the time for the past few weeks. They hadn't.   
  
"Later, pal."   
  
____xx   
  
Quatre's home was huge. Of course, he was expecting something extravagant like this. Huge vines crawling up the sides of the house and the door, which was large and stained glass. He stood on concrete flagstones, and around him, plants, bushes, trees, were everywhere. It was night, Duo wasn't sure what time exactly, but he figured it was late. But the scenery around him made him forget the petty troubles and he calmed instantly.   
  
But the ride to Quatre's home wasn't as calming. He had to ride public—and was feeling sick the whole way. But he didn't think twice before leaving his apartment, even if he was feeling sick. He would never miss an opportunity like this one. Even if Duo wasn't sure if Heero wasn't coming, he wasn't taking any risks. But he wasn't sure how to act if Heero was going to be there.   
  
"What's the use in worrying," Duo said to himself as he knocked on Quatre's door. "Why would anything go wrong?"   
  
But Duo was trying to convince himself. He reached to his neck and inside the collar of his shirt to rub the cross that was around his neck. The only thing Duo carried with him was a bag and a hat he wore, slightly tilted to the side to cover his eye. Of course, he wore no color. Black—and only black—a pair of dark jeans and a jacket.   
  
The door opened a few moments later, and Quatre stood, beaming at Duo.   
  
"I'm glad you made it."   
  
Duo smiled. "Glad I did, too. So," he poked his head in the doorway and looked around the huge house. "Who's here?"   
  
"Trowa and Wufei for now. I do think Heero is coming, though." Quatre took Duo's sleeve and pulled him inside the house, shutting the door behind them gently.   
  
Duo wandered for a moment, taking a few steps to the side, and just gawked at Quatre's house. "I'd die to live in a place like this, pal. This beats living in my apartment by a long shot."   
  
"You can stay for as long as you'd like!" Quatre smiled as he made his way down the hallway. There were pictures on the wall of landscapes, mostly.   
  
They made it to a room where Trowa and Wufei were playing pool. The room was slightly small compared to the rest of the house, but it was fine for Duo. Wufei was leaning against his pool stick and was staring at the green table. Trowa looked towards Quatre and, surprisingly to Duo, smiled.   
  
"Hey, Wufei, Trowa!" Duo greeted cheerfully. "Long time no see."   
  
Something inside Duo was lighting again. He didn't expect being with old friends would make him feel this way. He felt—wanted—for the least to say.   
  
"Nng, Duo." Wufei, of course, sighed, his eyes half-lidded. "For some reason, I was hoping you wouldn't show."   
  
Duo forced a grin at this and he threw his bag at Wufei. The agile Chinese boy only caught it gracefully. "Nice to see you, too, 'Fei." Duo turned to Quatre and Trowa. He noticed something … different.   
  
Studying them rudely for a moment, with a grin, Duo tried to figure out the difference. It was nothing … physical, really.   
  
"Hello, Duo," Trowa said, smiling slightly.   
  
"What's different?"   
  
Quatre turned his gaze to the floor and he blushed slightly.   
  
Duo smiled, getting the picture. "Well, heh. Sorry I arrived so late, guys. You mind telling me the time here?"   
  
"It's twelve forty-three," Wufei said as he hit the white ball across the pool table.   
  
"That late, huh? Is Heero going to show up?"   
  
"I'm not really sure. I think he is," Quatre said, smiling slightly as he looked to Trowa.   
  
Duo looked over at Wufei, then at Trowa, who both weren't paying much attention to him anyway, then leaned against the pool table, staring down at the green cloth. "I haven't been feeling too good lately so I think I'm gonna hit the sack. Sorry for not being in such a party mood."   
  
"It's okay. I'm just glad you showed up. Being sick is never fun," Quatre said kindly. "Since your not feeling to well, you can sleep up in my room. We were planning to stay up for a long time."   
  
"Thanks, Quatre. Later, Wufei, Trowa."   
  
Wufei nodded nonchalantly as he began pondering his next move for the game he and Trowa were playing. Trowa nodded and turned back to the game, as well. "Glad to have you with us, though," he added. Duo was thankful for that last phrase from the Trowa, who was usually very quiet.   
  
"Oh, um, would you mind telling me if Heero comes later on, Quatre?"   
  
Quatre nodded, "Sure thing. Hope you feel better."   
  
Catching the bag that Wufei threw back at him, Duo smiled, making his way out of the room.   
  
"By the way, my room is upstairs, second door on your right," the blonde pilot added, his blue eyes shimmering, a kind smile on his face.   
  
"Thanks," was Duo's last word as he made his way in the hallway. His smile disappeared immediately after he turned his back on the three other boys. What was else to say? He wasn't feeling well at all—nauseous. Maybe he just felt tired … physically and mentally.   
  
But seeing his friends for a brief moment was good enough for him. He wanted something more, though. Maybe he wanted something else. Maybe he wanted something he could never have.   
  
His steps were sluggish as he walked up the stairs. He let his fingers trail against the wall, the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and his other hand, gripping at the cross on his neck. He hoped it would bring him some kind of comfort. It didn't. And he wanted to be comforted so badly at that moment.   
  
He opened the second door on the right and examined the room for a moment. It was simple, but nice and decorated. But he didn't bother to turn on the lights. It had a queen-sized bed, a large desk with a computer and piles of paperwork on it, and a few chairs and a single couch. But the window was massive, and, in the darkness, he could see lights from a far city.   
  
The moon shone brightly above him and he was reminded of the night before. Of the night of his drug-induced sleep—the roses—the moon—the thoughts…   
  
"Snap out of it, Duo. You're here with people that want you to be there. There's nothing to worry about," he whispered to himself as he shut the door behind him.   
  
He sat on the edge of the large bed, well, at least it was large to him, and took off his hat, dropping it to the floor. He slipped his shirt over his shoulders and dropped that on the floor as well. His hand instantly grabbed for his rosary that was a cold metal against his bare skin. He held it tight and breathed in slowly.   
  
Heero wasn't coming.   
  
With that thought in his head, Duo leaned back into the plush of blankets and pillows gently and kicked off his boots.   
  
For some reason, even with the quiet speaking coming from downstairs from the three others, Duo felt … alone. It wasn't a dreadful feeling, just forlorn. But he wasn't alone. He was invited here—by Quatre, whom … was his friend. But he couldn't help feeling so empty at the sight of Trowa and Quatre. They were happy. And they were together.   
  
Duo's eyes half-lidded in a tired state as he held the cross around his neck. He turned over on his side and just stared out the window for the longest time, hoping to fall asleep soon. If Heero weren't to come, he'd never find another person like Heero Yuy again in his lifetime.   
  
____xx   
  
The Japanese boy opened the door slowly, almost cautiously. The door didn't creak at all. There was no sound except for the breathing of the person inside the room. The breathing was troubled and harsh. The moon was high in the sky, as he could see through the large window. Through the faint moonlight, he could see the profile of the braided boy on the bed.   
  
Even in sleep, he gripped the necklace around his neck tight and held it to his exposed, heaving chest. With his slim form, all Duo Maxwell took up on the bed was the corner, where even his legs were pulled towards his chest. It seemed as if he wanted to take up as less space as he could on the huge bed.   
  
Stepping into the room and closing the door silently behind him, the Prussian-eyed pilot stood, almost frozen, wondering what to do. Duo looked so distressed in his sleep, he wasn't sure if he should wake him or just leave. But Quatre had said Duo wanted to know when Heero came immediately.   
  
So, taking it as if it were his mission, he sat on the opposite edge of the bed, and just watched the American. It was as if Duo would cry out at any moment—from something, something that was haunting him in his dreams.   
  
Heero Yuy reached out, so close to almost touching Duo's bangs. But then his hand froze in mid-air. What was he doing? Was he going to try and comfort … him? Duo Maxwell—the one who was always so happy-go-lucky, so terribly humorous and devious?   
  
But, interrupting his thoughts, was Duo's sudden calmness in sleep. Heero felt Duo's cheek against his fingertips and blinked. Duo leaned into his hand.   
  
"Forgive me, Father…" Duo muttered in his sleep trance as he pulled his face away from Heero's hand and turned on his back, one hand gripping at his neck, the other holding his cross dearly. Heero watched Duo with some fascination. His bluish eyes were visible, but half his face was shadowed in the darkness.   
  
Then, Duo jolted up from the bed, "For I have sinned," he gasped.   
  
He brought his hands to his face and covered his eyes for a few moments. His breathing finally slowed and he sighed. He didn't even notice another was present in the room. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and shakily raked his hand through his bangs.   
  
He muttered something Heero couldn't hear and then stood, walking to the window. Duo sat on the windowsill and stared up at the dark sky for a moment before he held his cross again. He looked down to himself and laid his other hand on his stomach. He closed his eyes.   
  
"Duo."   
  
"Holy shit!" he cursed in surprise. He jumped at the voice and almost fell off the sill of which he was sitting on. He gripped the side of the window with his hand and peered around the room. He saw two Prussian blue orbs staring back at him. "H-Heero? Jesus Christ! You scared me half to death!"   
  
"Hn. Yeah." His voice was calm. "Quatre said you wanted to see me."   
  
Duo took a deep breath and turned from the window to look at Heero. "Well, y-yeah. You could've woken me up, though. I just haven't seen you … in a while, pal." Duo felt his heart thud in his chest. Why was this such a big deal to him? It was just Heero…   
  
Heero eyed him for a moment. "You talk in your sleep."   
  
Duo raised his head to look at Heero. But he didn't say anything. He could tell Heero was getting uncomfortable, and so was he.   
  
"All right. Bye." Heero stood from the bed and walked to the door. "I'm going to sleep."   
  
"Wait," Duo said, almost a whisper.   
  
Heero turned around and stared at the braided boy.   
  
"Do you—"   
  
There was a long pause. Duo knew what he was going to say. Duo wanted to know if Heero felt the same way, too, after the war was over. Did they really have a purpose anymore? But … how could he ask that when he had just seen Heero for seconds and after he had been gone for so long.   
  
"N-never mind. Good night."   
  
Heero didn't say anything. He only shut the door behind himself quietly.   
  
When the door shut, Duo gripped his cross and shut his eyes tightly. Too many memories to remember … too many to forget.   
  
____xx   
  
"I'd never think Quatre was the drinking kind," Wufei said as he sat down at the kitchen table. Trowa sat on the other side sipping his tea.   
  
"Well. We all had our fun last night, right?"   
  
"Except for those two." Wufei nodded his head towards the stairs.   
  
Trowa shook his head. "I guess they weren't feeling too well."   
  
"Quatre could say the same." Wufei grinned.   
  
Hearing someone stumbling down the stairs, Trowa turned his head the slightest to look. Duo was holding the handrail, his feet moving like lightning down the stairs. His hair was a mess, and so was his clothing. He put on a sloppy grin and practically tripped into the kitchen. He dropped down into a chair by Trowa and yawned loudly.   
  
"Feeling better?" Trowa asked.   
  
"You look tired," Wufei said at the same time.   
  
Duo chuckled and brushed his bangs out of his face. "Had a hard time sleeping last night. I'm feeling better, though." Liar. "How was last night?"   
  
Wufei chuckled as he stared down at his cereal bowl. Trowa spoke, "It was … fun. Quatre has a hangover … so did Wufei." Wufei snickered some more. "But I'm thinking he's a little better now. Heero, on the other hand, came quite late—or early, should I say. He went to see you, after getting a taste of the drunken Quatre, then I'm guessing he went straight to bed."   
  
"Some party animals, 'ey?" Wufei said, still staring at his cereal.   
  
"Yeah. You better watch yourself, 'Fei," Duo said in an amused tone, "you might fall into that bowl of—" Wufei passed out into his cereal bowl.   
  
"He sure can hide a hangover," Trowa stated bluntly.   
  
"Heh. Where's Heero off to?"   
  
"Spare bedroom upstairs. Right next to yours."   
  
"Hey, Trowa… Can I ask you something?" Duo asked quickly.   
  
Trowa eyed Duo for a moment with his bright green eye—the other eye, of course, hidden behind his long bangs. Surprisingly, the American pilot seemed serious, maybe even apprehensive. "I guess."   
  
"Are you and Quatre—?"   
  
Trowa let the slightest smile brush past his lips. "Yes," he said as he looked over at unconscious Wufei. "If it wasn't obvious."   
  
"Oh. So you guys are together a lot then, huh?"   
  
"Yes, I suppose."   
  
Duo put his hands on the table and examined them closely. Noticing Trowa was staring at him again, Duo looked up and smiled. "It's nice, isn't it? To have someone…"   
  
"It is."   
  
Duo smiled, his cheeks turning slightly red because of his sudden questioning. "Sorry, I just wanted to know, I guess."   
  
"Hn." Trowa crossed his legs casually and took out a book from under the piles of paper on the table.   
  
Duo bit his lower lip and focused his gaze back on his hands. They were shaking. Clearing his throat, Duo tried to strike up a conversation. "So. What's Wufei up to these days?"   
  
Trowa's eye turned to Duo for a moment, then back to his book. His facial expression never changed from its calmness. "I hear he's working with Sally Po. He seems to be happy, too, which is slightly strange since he takes things differently than most people."   
  
Duo nodded. "He sure does look happy now." A grin didn't pass by his face this time, and Trowa noticed it.   
  
"How are things with you?"   
  
Surprised at the question, Duo shoved folded his arms on the table. "It's okay. Not as exciting as it had been with the war. I have my own place … on L-2. I've gotten fired—twice, um."   
  
"Anyone living with you?" Trowa wasn't concentrating on his book anymore, and Duo knew it.   
  
"No. It's just me."   
  
"You're lonely." The statement wasn't harsh, just an examination.   
  
Duo was silent for a moment. He turned his eyes away from Trowa. "No. I'm having a great time. I feel … solo. It's … good."   
  
Solo…   
  
Duo winced at his choice of words and stood up from the table. "I'm going to catch up with Heero." Liar. He left the kitchen. Duo knew he made a mistake. He should have never tried to start a conversation with Trowa. Trowa knew, didn't he? He knew he wanted something, someone … that he couldn't have.   
  
Why did he have to think about this now? He should just forget about all those bad memories—all those memories that were his fault.   
  
As Duo passed the stairs, he stopped. His mind raced. Which way? Should he just leave—and go outside, and get a hold of himself? Or should he go see Heero, who was upstairs? With feelings rushing forth he didn't even know he had, he bolted up the stairs, one hand on the rail, and one, involuntary, gripping the cross around his neck. And as he ran, he muttered, "Forgive me, Father."   
  
But when he reached the door, his hand on the doorknob, he froze. Fear. Doubt. Insecurity. His breath hitched and he stepped back. What was he doing? Was he going to ask Heero for help? Why…?   
  
It was because he wanted him to care.   
  
But Heero wouldn't care for anyone but Relena. That was obvious. Duo didn't want to change that. But why did he want Heero to care for him as he cared for Relena? It was because he…   
  
"I'll never find someone as touched … as you." He pressed the metal cross that hung around his neck to his lips. "For I have sinned." Duo turned around and pulled his hat over his eyes. He wore no color. Why would he wear color if he were dying? He wondered how many more petals he had left.   
  
No matter…   
  
But inside that room, Heero, as he sat reading his book, heard the thunder of footsteps running up the stairs, and he saw a shadow under the crack of his door. He saw it pause, step back, and then walk away. He suspected, of course, that was none other than Duo.   
  
It had been a while since he had seen the American boy. And his thoughts traveled back to last night. 'Forgive me, Father … For I have sinned.' What was that supposed to mean? Heero had wanted to confront Duo with that last night, but decided otherwise. He looked troubled, and he didn't want to trouble him even further.   
  
But while Heero was pondering, Duo was rushing down the stairs, and he was out the door so quickly Trowa wasn't sure if he heard anything at all.   
  
Duo pulled his jacket around himself tighter and stood staring straight up at the cloudy skies. Where was he to go? Maybe he would just stay out for a while. Just for … a little while.   
  
He began walking slowly. He didn't know where. But he figured Quatre had owned a lot of land. He'd just be alone for a little while. It was all right. He'd come back later on, at lunch, and just say that he took a walk. If anyone asked why he went alone, he'd say … something like … he didn't want to annoy anyone with his babble. It was the truth, too.   
  
He did have a tendency to annoy people. And Heero seemed to be the most irate to his conversation.   
  
But if Quatre was the easiest one to talk to out of all five of his friends … his comrades … than why didn't he just talk to him instead of Heero?   
  
"Why do I feel this way?" he asked himself in a growl. "It's not right."   
  
Again, his hand went to his cross. It was as if every time he knew he had done something bad, his hand would involuntary reach for that cross and he would ask for forgiveness. But why did he feel like he wasn't getting any?   
  
God wasn't that cruel, was he?   
  
Would he just abandon him as well?   
  
Would he just abandon Duo as he had the Maxwell Church?   
  
Duo stopped. His teeth clenched and he shut his eyes. The next thing he saw was the cross around his neck on the floor, in the dirt. The metal glistened in the filthy ground. The American boy bit his bottom lip furiously. He could taste the blood in his mouth. But he swallowed it.   
  
And trudged away.   
  
"I said I was sorry. I said I didn't like having these feelings for him. Why can't You take that? Is that not enough for You? I've led everyone away from me—is that not enough?" His voice was furious whisper. His steps began to increase into large strides.   
  
"I said I didn't love him. I can't. I won't. I just want to be good again—I don't want to have so much … sin on me—in me. It's inside of me. I can't stop it. If I had a second chance, I know I could avoid all this. I wouldn't have killed all those people I have. I'm sorry. I've been sorry for everything I've done. Why is that not good enough to forgive?!"   
  
Duo stopped running immediately and froze. "If You won't forgive me, then I … Then You've … forsaken me."   
  
With his eyes half-lidded, he walked back to where he had dropped his cross in the dirt. He wiped it off with his finger and slipped it back on his neck. Why did he want forgiveness because of his love for … him—for a boy? It was not worth it.   
  
Duo stared back at the house and, for the first time in a long time, he smiled for himself. And he didn't need to grip the cross.   
  
____xx   
  
"So, Duo, how was your walk?"   
  
Trowa, of course, was the first one to ask. Duo smiled faintly this time. But his eyes held something different. They were determined, for something Trowa was not sure of. "It was … good."   
  
"Glad to hear it," Quatre said, rubbing his temples. "But could you say that a little more … quietly?"   
  
Duo chuckled and leaned back into the couch. It had been just a few minutes after he arrived back from his 'walk.' But it felt good to actually smile and not have to act. Trowa was trying to calm Quatre down by watching a little television. Duo sat down with them. Quatre was whimpering about how they were talking so loud. Duo figured Trowa had put Wufei down somewhere in one of the rooms. He'd come around eventually.   
  
'Poor guy,' Duo thought, biting his lip.   
  
But that was the only thought he gave to Quatre. His thoughts were on another. Heero … What would he say to the Japanese boy when he showed up? If he had talked in his sleep last night, and Heero had told him, he must have said something foolish.   
  
But it didn't matter anymore because Duo didn't deny his feelings.   
  
'It's been too long that I've denied this.'   
  
Duo licked his lips and narrowed his eyes. He sat in a more … casual position on the end of the couch. One of his arms was hanging off the armrest and the other was supporting his chin, and his elbow was lying on his other arm. One of his legs was hanging off the couch, and the other was bent towards his chest. He could care less of how he looked at the moment. Quatre didn't mind.   
  
"Do you know where Heero is?" Duo asked, interrupting something Quatre was muttering to Trowa.   
  
Trowa turned to Duo and examined his position for a moment. Duo could have sworn the green-eyed boy smiled. "Upstairs with Wufei."   
  
Duo nodded and stood. He walked out of the room casually. With the end of his braid between his fingers, he walked up the stairs. His eyes were low, his smile faint, but there. When his hand gripped the doorknob, he didn't step back. He pushed open the door quietly.   
  
He looked around the room. He noticed, through the window that it was raining outside. His smile brightened slightly. He saw Wufei sitting on the bed, holding an icepack against his forehead. He was staring blankly at the television. Heero, on the other hand, looked slightly amused. He was reading a large book, and was on very near to the last page.   
  
"Ugh, Duo. Do you really have to ruin the silence?" Wufei moaned as he rolled over, pressing his face in the pillow.   
  
Duo jerked at thumb at his chest and mouthed, "Me?" He had a very wide grin on his face.   
  
Wufei just moaned again and pressed his face into the pillow a little harder.   
  
"Hey, Heero," Duo said quietly, which Heero wasn't used to.   
  
Heero looked up from his book, his eyes only moving, and then looked back down. Duo looked towards Wufei who began to sit up. Without a word, the Chinese boy took the pillow and dragged himself out of the room. That left Duo alone with Heero.   
  
Duo swallowed and looked towards the TV. Cartoons. Feeling a little absurd standing in the middle of the room, Duo sat on the end of the bed. His eyes couldn't help but trail to Heero.   
  
"I … haven't talked to you in a while, Heero."   
  
Pause. "I guess."   
  
Duo traced the designs on the greenish comforter with is finger for a few moments. Silence.   
  
"What the hell did I say this time? What did I say wrong?" Duo blurted, looking towards Heero. There was something strange in the braided boy's eyes. Something … imploring, begging. Heero noticed it.   
  
"… No."   
  
Duo scratched the back of his head nervously. "Well—"   
  
"Don't say anything."   
  
Duo's mouth shut instantly.   
  
Heero was staring at him; his head still lowered to his book, but his eyes … they were staring straight through Duo. Looking around nervously, Duo felt immediately self-conscious. What had he done wrong?   
  
"You talk too much."   
  
"But Heero—I hardly even—I haven't seen you in such a long time—and—" Duo shut his mouth. That had hurt him. He clenched his teeth for a moment, straining, hoping, and wondering why…   
  
Then he laughed.   
  
Duo laughed.   
  
It wasn't a happy laugh. It was to cover up for … something. "All right, fine, pal. You don't want to talk to me, I understand. Okay." He stood. "It's all right. I guess."   
  
Heero looked back down at his book.   
  
"I'm leaving…" He stood in the doorway, his hand on the frame. He was expecting Heero to say something—anything! "Bye."   
  
He opened the door.   
  
Still, Heero didn't say anything.   
  
His eyes made their trail halfway towards Heero, then he turned his head forward, his back to the Japanese boy. Still, there was no word. He shut the door.   
  
His breath hitched.   
  
What the hell did he do wrong?   
  
It wasn't supposed to turn out that way.   
  
He walked to the room where he slept last night and flung open the door … only to hit the unsuspecting Chinese boy in the side of the head.   
  
"DUO!" Wufei shouted as he hit Duo in the face with the pillow he was holding.   
  
"S-sorry! I didn't know you were—"   
  
Slam.   
  
The door almost his him in the face, as well.   
  
It was quiet.   
  
The hallway was so quiet, almost utterly silent.   
  
"Sorry," he whispered.   
  
Then he snickered. He turned and made his way to the bathroom in the hallway. He shut the door behind him gently. He looked towards the high window and saw the rain splatter against the glass. His laughing soon turned into a choked sob and he covered his mouth.   
  
'Why is this so damn hard?' he thought desperately. 'What mistake did I make this time, huh? Tell me!'   
  
As he stared at the rain, he leaned against the door to the bathroom and looked to the side. He saw his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were darkened from his lack of sleep, and worry was in his brows. He was biting his bottom lip, opening the wound inside his mouth that he had created earlier in the day. Then, he slid down the door, getting out of view from the mirror and he brought his legs to his chest.   
  
Raining.   
  
Feeling the rain against his cheeks, he then wiped at his eyes furiously with his baggy black sleeves. He was crying, wasn't he?   
  
WHY? Because of him.   
  
Duo sighed and dropped his head back, leaning against the door. He let out a sigh and took a deep breath. "I'm okay. It's okay. If no one wants to talk to you, then don't talk to them. It'll make them happy. And that's all that counts," he whispered to himself.   
  
Something sunk to the bottom of his stomach and he shut his eyes.   
  
He stayed there for a long time.   
  
In the meanwhile, Duo wondered if he had any petals left for himself.   
  
____xx   
  
It wasn't until later on that day that Quatre had finally conquered his hangover. Everyone was invited downstairs to have a slightly early dinner. Wufei knocked on the door to the bathroom.   
  
"Duo, you in there? Come down and eat."   
  
Duo was startled slightly, but he stood. He looked at himself in the mirror first before answering. He was a mess. His eyes were slightly red from rubbing at them so much, his hair was a mess, and his clothes were all tangled.   
  
"Uh, coming."   
  
"… You okay?"   
  
"Wh-what?"   
  
"Are you okay, Duo?" Wufei repeated.   
  
Duo blinked in the mirror. "Uh … yeah … Wufei." Wufei? Wufei would ask a thing like that?   
  
"Well, come downstairs."   
  
Duo opened the door and rubbed at his face. Wufei stood in front of the braided boy and watched him. "You're not okay."   
  
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired…"   
  
Wufei narrowed his eyes at him. "Well. We're downstairs."   
  
Duo nodded and closed the door behind him. He peered around the hallway, watching Wufei trot down the stairs. Heero's door was opened. That must have meant Heero was downstairs, as well. Aggravated with himself, Duo violently rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, and made his way downstairs.   
  
Quatre and Trowa were on the couch conversing quietly with each other. Quatre, blushing all the while Trowa had a slight sly grin on his face. Wufei and Heero sat on another sofa, which was larger than the one the other two were on. Duo sat between Wufei and Heero, whom was sitting as far as he could on the end, leaning against the armrest.   
  
Wufei, without a word, handed Duo a plate of Chinese food. Duo smiled, "You make this?"   
  
"Yeah." That was Wufei's simple answer as he shoved the food in his mouth with a pair of chopsticks.   
  
Duo took the fork that was on the plate and took a bite out of his food. Chew. Chew. Swallow.   
  
Heero's arm brushed against his. "Wufei, do you have anymore food?"   
  
Duo's heart thumped in his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment, a faint smile present on his lips.   
  
"Yeah." Wufei answered the same exact way he had to Duo's question.   
  
Wufei handed Duo another plate and Duo simply passed it to Heero. Duo didn't give any eye contact to the Japanese boy, who didn't seem concerned at all, really. So, Duo kept his eyes on the television in front of them.   
  
It was strange to see nothing related to the war on TV anymore. What would the people on Earth and the colonies think if they knew the Gundam pilots were having … a sleepover, so to say?   
  
Duo's smile faded. He stayed quiet. Wufei seemed to be enjoying the placidity of the atmosphere around them, so why would Duo alter it with his trivial talk? Heero didn't seem annoyed either.   
  
It stayed that way for a while. Later on, Quatre and Trowa made their way to sit on the floor in front of Duo and Wufei. They all were watching TV. Quatre had brought a blanket for himself and Trowa. He had also brought one for Duo, who was uncharacteristically cold.   
  
"Relena seems to be doing well," Duo pointed out as he nodded towards the TV screen. Relena Peacecraft was surrounded by reporters who were swarming her with questions. She seemed contented.   
  
"Have you talked to Relena lately, Heero?" Duo asked as he looked over at the boy who sat next to him.   
  
Heero sat with his arms folded across his chest. His eyes were closed, and his mouth slightly parted. Duo gazed at him for a moment or so, exploring the boy's face. He had never seen Heero like that before. The Japanese boy seemed so placid.   
  
Quatre chuckled gently, "He hardly slept at all last night."   
  
"Oh." Duo looked away, towards the two on the floor just to take his eyes off of Heero. He hadn't seen him in so long—but he would never forget how he looked.   
  
"Trowa," Duo heard Quatre mutter, "you have nice eyes. You shouldn't hide behind your hair." It was followed by a soft snicker.   
  
Duo brought his legs up on to his chest under the blanket, and set his chin on his knees. He wrapped his arms around his legs and stared at the TV. Wufei just stared blankly at the TV, almost in a daze—or in some serious deep thoughts. Trowa and Quatre seemed to be tired as well.   
  
Soon, it was only silence in the room. The TV had been muted to a very soft quiet tone, so it was hardly heard. Duo, not at all, had paid attention to the TV ever since he found Heero was asleep. He had talked to Heero without looking at him earlier, so when Heero had never answered, he must have been asleep, or had just ignored him, like Duo suspected. Somehow, that made his disappointed.   
  
Heero didn't want to listen to a word he said … no one did.   
  
Duo looked back over at Heero once more. He was in the same position. Duo felt his heart beat faster. He could hear it in his ears now. Heero … was just there. He was sitting next to Duo. His lips parted, his eyes closed. His heartbeat was pulsing in his ears.   
  
'Heero…' Duo was going to sigh. But before he could, he found himself leaning over.   
  
No one was awake anymore. Who would see?   
  
His hand unconsciously made its way to his heart, but it only grasped the metal cross around his neck, which lay on his thudding chest. He closed his eyes, almost wincing at the feel of the metal object. Then, he slipped it off his head and clutched it in his hand.   
  
He was leaning forward.   
  
The only light in the room came from the glowing TV. And, still, the light from it was very dim.   
  
No one would see.   
  
With the hand that was clutching onto the cross, Duo felt his hand move to Heero's forearm to support himself very gently. He closed shut his eyes softly. There was no need to feel intimidated. No one would see.   
  
No one would know.   
  
Duo could feel Heero's breath against his lips.   
  
No one would see. No one would know.   
  
His lips pressed against Heero's so gently that Duo felt like he was teasing himself. He licked his lips airily and was about to pull away when…   
  
The tip of a gun pressed against the bottom of his chin.   
  
Duo's violet eyes shot open only to meet cobalt.   
  
Duo's eyes were not full of fear. His eyes seemed sedative, calm, and ready to accept whatever was to come his way … maybe even melancholy.   
  
In one swift move, Heero had twisted Duo's arm so he could not move out of his grip, and he slammed the gun into the side of the braided boy's head. In that move, Duo heard a loud crack and felt pure numbness for a brief second. Duo's breath hitched in a pained gasp and he was jerked off the sofa from Heero's severe hit.   
  
As he lay on his side on the floor, broken and shattered in every way possible, Duo Maxwell's hand loosened, and his eyes, slowly, gazed over to the cross … that had fallen out of his slack hand.   
  
No one was supposed to see. No one was supposed to know that he … was in love with Heero Yuy.   
  
His cheek began to bleed and he felt his pulse thud in his wound and in his wrist. He had broken it. Heero had broken his wrist and hit him in the face. It wasn't supposed to happen that way. Duo tried to tighten his fingers, to hold onto that cross as some sort of hope … some sort of hope that whatever had just happened … didn't. But his fingers wouldn't move. The only response he got back from his body was pure, absolute pain.   
  
Pain.   
  
"D-Duo!" Quatre gasped. He had awoken hearing the loud crack.   
  
The braided boy didn't cry out. He only hissed at the pain, the unbearable pain, as he sat up. No, he had been through so much worse physical pain. But with the mental pain blurring the line between physical and mental, the pain was ten times as worse as it had felt.   
  
"S-sorry. It's my f-fault," he said quietly as he gripped his wrist. "I didn't—I s-surprised him, I guess. It-it's nothing." His voice cracked, and he hoped Quatre hadn't noticed.   
  
"Heero? Did you—?"   
  
"N-no, it's my fault. I'll just—I'll be fine, K-Quatre." Duo stood a little shakily. "I'll—be back." The blanket had slid off his legs as he stood. Clutching his wrist, he made his way out of the room.   
  
Down the hall.   
  
It was dark … all around him.   
  
Up the stairs.   
  
Down the hall.   
  
Into the doorway…   
  
His heart thudded faster and faster … and faster. His breath was in short gasps. His hair was a tangled mess around him. His braid was loosened and his baggy shirt slid had slid off his left shoulder. Around his neck, no more, was his cross. He had left it on the floor … as well as his pride.   
  
He numbly opened the drawer under the sink and found a bundle of white bandages. He unwrapped them and held his wrist out. Ignoring the pain, Duo wrapped his arm in the bandages … and he wrapped … and wrapped…   
  
Soon he was kneeling on the floor, wrapping the bandage around his wrist, hand and arm so tightly his eyes began to well with tears. He didn't know if they were tears of pain, because he had never cried when he had broken a bone, but, rather, he thought he felt they were tears of betrayal. He betrayed himself. He said he would never tell anyone his secret. But now, he had just…   
  
The door opened. Duo hadn't realized that he had shut it anyway.   
  
Heero stood in the doorframe. His countenance was shadowed halfway. His eyes, although, were wide, almost frightened.   
  
"Are you all right?" his voice was firm despite what Duo had seen in his eyes.   
  
Duo looked towards the ground. He had also not noticed his hand had stopped wrapping. But he began once again, this time, slower, but harder. "Yeah," he whispered hoarsely.   
  
"I didn't know I'd hit you that hard, I—"   
  
"I deserved it." Duo pressed his good hand against his tightly bandaged wrist and cringed. Duo stood and took a towel from the rack beside him. He did not dare look at himself in the mirror. He wet the white towel in the running faucet and pressed it against his cheek. He leaned back against the wall and slid down it, sitting on the floor, his legs and slack arm sprawled out in front of him.   
  
"But why did you…"   
  
"Why do you think, Heero? Why do you think I'd risk breaking my wrist and getting hit in the face—hard?" Duo did not look at him. He had his eyes closed, his head hung as he cleaned the bruise on his cheek.   
  
Heero narrowed his cobalt-blue eyes. He was studying Duo carefully. Duo seemed strange—different. He remembered when he watched him staring out the window when he approached last night. That was not the Duo Maxwell that Heero remembered during the war.   
  
"I'm sorry," Heero said dully.   
  
The hand Duo was using to rub at his cheek froze. His eyes didn't move from where they held on the floor. His voice was quiet, very quiet. "I'm not."   
  
Heero wasn't sure he heard correctly. But he did not want to confront Duo on it. Taking a step in the bathroom, Heero Yuy put out his hand towards the boy that sat on the floor. Duo, a little surprised, turned his head the slightest to look at the offering hand.   
  
"You should lay down."   
  
Duo stared at the hand for a long, silent moment. Then, he raised his good hand, and Heero took the towel from him.   
  
The white, pure towel was stained with Duo's crimson blood.   
  
Heero gently grabbed onto Duo's hand and raised him up. Placing Duo's arm over his shoulder as support, he lead Duo out of the bathroom and into the bedroom Heero was using while over at Quatre's.   
  
He didn't turn on the lights, for the moonlight, he knew, would be enough. He leaned over the bed and Duo gently fell on top of the plush blankets and pillows. "Quatre sure lives great," he mumbled as he pressed the side of his face against the pillow.   
  
Heero stood in front of him, looking down at the prone violet-eyed boy. "Turn over."   
  
Duo didn't defy him. He had no more will of his own to retaliate anyway. He rolled over on his back slowly and placed his strained arm over his stomach. Heero kicked off his shoes and crawled over Duo. He sat on Duo's legs, placing the towel beside them on the bed, and took the broken arm in his hand.   
  
"I'm going to re-locate some of the tendons and bones in your wrist," he informed quietly in a slightly deep voice in the silence of the room. "You'll heal faster that way and won't have to be in pain for so long. It'll be like … I'm putting days' worth of pain into one moment. It'll be hell."   
  
Duo only groaned softly, almost a whimper.   
  
Taking that as a yes, Heero began to unwrap the bandages from the arm of the boy he was sitting on.   
  
"This is going to be like your broken leg, isn't it?"   
  
Neither Duo nor Heero smiled at the memory. "You still remember that?" Heero said darkly.   
  
"How could I forget…" Duo moaned airily. Hissing at the pain as the bandage loosened greatly, his good hand reflexively held onto Heero's forearm firmly.   
  
"Take a deep breath," the Japanese boy commanded in a soft tone.   
  
Duo took in a shaky breath.   
  
In a split-second, Heero shoved Duo's wrist down onto the bed and his fingers worked their way around Duo's broken tendons and bones. No wonder Heero was sitting on his legs, because he tried to kick the boy off, but to no avail. The pain made his head spin, his vision blur.   
  
He ground his teeth together so hard he felt his ears pop.   
  
Heero's fingers moved like lightning on his wrist. There were a few cracks and a lot of strain in his muscles from Heero's relocating. But Duo had been through physical pain like this, so why did he feel warm tears in his eyes? Maybe it was because the source of the torture was the boy he had just attempted to kiss.   
  
Feeling the bandages getting wrapped around his wrist tightly again, Duo let his eyes open. Since his bangs were itching at his eyes, he closed them again only causing tears to fall. He gasped at the throbbing pain in his arm. But he did not move at all. He felt Heero move to grab the towel, but the Prussian-eyed boy did not move from his position.   
  
Duo felt his bangs get gently pushed away from his sweating face. A cool towel softly pressed against his skin … comforting. What shocked Duo, though, was how rough he had been in relocating his wrist, and how gentle he was of wiping the blood from his bruising cut on his cheek. His good hand loosened the grip on Heero's arm, but did not let go.   
  
"I'm sorry," Heero whispered.   
  
The door opened and a sliver of light caressed the wall and Duo's lips. Heero looked away from his patient and looked towards the door.   
  
Quatre asked, a little worried, "Is everything all right?"   
  
Heero nodded. "Everything's fine now."   
  
The door closed and Heero noticed the light had not kissed his lips anymore. Instead, there was darkness all around him. The moonlight did not dare shine on Maxwell. At this, Heero paused his movements.   
  
Tears were streaming down Duo's cheeks.   
  
"I'm sorry, Duo," Heero said once again. He wiped the tears from Duo's cheeks. "I didn't know it was you until I had the gun to your skin."   
  
"I deserved it. You've been forgiven even before you hit me."   
  
Dabbing the towel against Duo's neck, Heero began to unbutton Duo's shirt … three buttons … that was it. Duo felt something cold against his skin—something familiar. "You forgot this."   
  
The cross.   
  
Duo couldn't hold the cross in his hand after he had kissed Heero.   
  
"I can't have it anymore if I can't hold it." Duo's eyes moved from staring at the wall of the room to Heero's eyes. "I'd suffer forever in Hell just to have a taste of you. It was worth it."   
  
Heero did not answer. How would he answer? He was not sure himself. He just took the towel again and wiped away the tears from Duo's eyes that just kept flowing.   
  
"You … get me closer to God." The hand on Heero's arm gripped firmly and then let go.   
  
Heero froze. "But Duo," he started with a voice that was hushed, almost malevolent. "I did nothing."   
  
Duo closed his eyes. "I know."   
  
"Then how would you feel if I…" Heero seemed breathless.   
  
Duo was about to turn his head away, but he felt Heero's lips against his, almost roughly. The stupefaction came to Duo as his cheeks blushed from astonishment. Then, he shut his eyes, opening his mouth. The kiss was deep and very passionate—but only a moment's worth.   
  
It was then that Heero pulled away.   
  
Duo couldn't feel the pain anymore. His body was flushed, almost numb. That was more than he could ever ask for. Heero relaxed, sliding off of Duo to lie down next to him. Heero's voice was in Duo's ear, his lips, his breath, touching his skin. "I am the bullet in the gun."   
  
Duo breathed in deeply. His shady grin began to form. The cross around his neck slipped off his skin as he rolled over to face Heero. His wrist, forgotten. The pain didn't matter. This was more than he could ever dream of. "Why—did you do that?" Duo couldn't help but ask, breathless.   
  
Heero smiled faintly, closing his eyes slightly as he laid his head back on the pillow. He said, quietly, without opening his eyes, "Why do you think?"   
  
Duo licked his lips. "Is it really that hard to admit someone loves you…?" It seemed as if he was saying that to himself.   
  
"Yes," Heero answered. "The only love I ever had was hate—for Relena. It isn't something the Gundam pilots should feel—but now…"   
  
"Relena…" Duo breathed, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Are you—and her?"   
  
"Yes and no," Heero answered quickly.   
  
Duo hesitated. "Wh-what?"   
  
"She loves me. I hate her, Duo. I've hated everyone, Duo." The braided boy watched him for a moment as he paused, mouth slightly open, searching for the right word to say.   
  
But then, Duo began quietly, "Is that how you feel now that the war is … over?"   
  
Heero nodded, closing his mouth. Then he opened his eyes and studied Duo. "Every day since the war has been over, I wake up … and I hold the gun up to my forehead, Duo … and—I even have a special bullet for the occasion." Heero reached to his back and pulled out the gun he was speaking of.   
  
He opened the barrel and took out the bullet. "It's pure gold. It's always loaded and I always carry it with me. But … every morning," he pressed the empty gun to his forehead, closing his eyes, "every morning … I hold it up to my forehead and I think. What do I have to do today? And it's always something pointless for Relena. But this morning, Duo…"   
  
The American boy carefully placed his fingers over Heero's hand that was holding the gun to his forehead. He lowered the gun slowly and gently.   
  
"This morning, Duo. I was going to do it. I had it loaded, my finger on the trigger … Then, I remembered … you said something in your sleep—last night." Heero took a deep breath. "You said, 'Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.' Do you know what that made me think of?" Heero paused, closing his eyes. "It made me think of you, Duo—not God. And you know why I didn't shove the gun right down my throat right then? Because I thought of you. Because I knew you loved me—you loved me for the longest time, haven't you? Duo…"   
  
Heero let his hand trail down Duo's jaw line and touched the cut he made with the edge of his gun on Duo's jawbone, under his eye. "I wondered what you do if you thought I was dead. As an example, I thought of Relena. She loved me, and I hated her. But if I killed myself—what would she do? She'd be miserable for the rest of her life. You're not like that. I thought of you … You're Shinigami, Duo. What did you think I'd think you do? I couldn't have that. If only you didn't love me, Duo—I could have done it. I don't want to be here anymore—because—"   
  
Taking in a shaky breath, he gripped Duo's neck.   
  
"Because we have nothing to live for," Duo answered in a whisper. "Heero—I've done the same thing. Except, Heero, I had no one to think of … of who would worry about me if I was dead. I had no one, Heero. You had Relena, and you knew it, and you had me … and you knew it. You have two people that love you, Heero. And there's more from where that came from. Me? Heero," his voice cracked, "I've lived in a rundown apartment for the last few months—alone. I was desperate to see you. I had no one. I knew you'd—you hated me, didn't you?   
  
"I wish someone else would—someone would just care for me the way I care for you, Heero. I had no one. I didn't have anything to live for anymore. If I was gone, Heero, what would you do? I knew you wouldn't give too much of a mind. You hated everyone, why would I think it'd make a difference if it were … me, Duo Maxwell: an orphan who slaughtered a whole Church and the hundreds of people inside, millions of soldiers and innocent people during the war … and himself somewhere in there, too? I wished it would make a difference. I guessed you probably would never even know if I were gone, huh? You wouldn't come for me. I knew no one that would've. So I don't think you should be complaining, H-Heero."   
  
He shut his eyes, feeling tears streaming down them.   
  
"I have nothing to live for, except for you, Heero. And I'm to go to Hell just because I love you, Heero. But it … it was worth it, and so much more."   
  
He felt Heero's lips press against his skin, kissing away his tears.   
  
"I'm sorry," Heero whispered. "I'm sorry I disregarded everyone—everything, even myself. But—now, Duo … I have to live … for you."   
  
Duo grabbed at the cross on his neck and pressed it against Heero's. "Does that do anything to you? I didn't think so." Heero did not hesitate to keep his lips pressed against Duo's flesh. Instead, he only brought his arm around to cling onto Duo, letting his fingers run through his long hair, unbraiding…   
  
Duo let his hand drop over the bed, and the cross, fell to the floor, never to again look down upon.   
  
"God can't stop me from loving you, Duo. God never helped me before in my life, so why should I listen to God when He tells me to not touch you? Duo, I loved you for a long time. I always denied it. How could I feel that way about … Duo Maxwell? But I don't have to care anymore."   
  
Heero's breath was against Duo's neck.   
  
"I can't go on anymore if I can't touch you."   
  
Duo's eyes trailed up to the moon shielded by the thin sheet of rain.   
  
It was always watching him. He knew if God disregarded him, he could always turn to the moon—the graveyard.   
  
"I love you, Duo."   
  
The longhaired boy pressed his lips against Heero's, his eyes, trailing to around the room illuminated eerily by the moonlight.   
  
There, he saw a bundle of crimson roses, in bloom, in color, alive.   
  
And Heero began to finish unbuttoning the American boy's shirt. Duo Maxwell, doing the same. And this time, when Duo Maxwell touched the rose that lay on top of him, it had not fallen apart, but instead, gave him a kiss.   
  
Both boys … in bloom, in color, alive—touched.   
  
____xx   
  
owari. 


End file.
